For the children…

If you see this poster, than you’ll see me there – Thur. Dec 17th 6-10pm.
Food, drinks, music, art, video..fun, fun, fun!

Yinka Shonibare, MBE

I had the pleasure of viewing the Yinka Shonibare exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum before the exhibit’s closing. A truly multi-media artist he is. Painting, sculpture, video, fashion, photography, dance…he’s not afraid to express freely, not allowing limitations of any noticeable kind. Mostly, the thing that impressed me was that he treated each work of video art with as much care and consideration one would give to a traditional painting. He inspired me and made me laugh hysterically.

Collective Conscience , Twitter and You.

The term “Collective Conscience” has taken new meaning in my time. It once carried a heftier, staunch assumption that the individual is sacrificed for the sake of the community – based on rules, laws and codes. Today, I’ve known collective conscience to mean something else – or should I say we’ve come to know….

It seems more and more, as each of us take whatever measures to look either inside ourselves or all around us, we find common ground that echoes the mass state of being. Although individual in nature, our moments of clarity seem to match popular human thought and development. Interestingly enough, there isn’t a very obvious standard of living to which the world subscribes at the moment. We are so spread out and varied. Though, I guess if I had to take a stab at understanding what bonds us morally…there’s common law, human decency and an appetite for knowledge that propels us harmoniously. Not to mention, our world is in a state of panic. There is great trouble that we all can feel. Pain knows no lies. I’d further presume that we’re all having a similar knee-jerk reaction to this undeniable turmoil. We’re upon our darkest hour and we are moving hand-in-hand toward the dawn…

…and tweeting all the way!

I don’t know if you’re a twitterer. I am. Follow me @nosilla. I tweet my daily meditations, thoughts, songs, links, jokes and what not just about every day. And many many other people do the same. Some of my favorite tweets are from @Deepak_Chopra @RevRunWisdom and @PurpleZoe . They always have some very enlightened info to share. As do many others on twitter. Twitter also has its own search. So if you wanted to know what people across the world were thinking about “salad” you could just type the word “salad” into TwitterSearch and find out what people have to say about salad. For example:

Twitter is the #1 tool we have right now, where moment-to-moment thoughts from people across all boundaries (aside from the digital divide) share in their now presence – in a semi-tangible way. Twitter gets in the flow…you know what I’m talkin’ about? That flow. When everything seems to be in divine order. When you think about somebody and they appear. When you intuitively know what’s coming, and you’re always prepared yet surprised and in a constant state of inspiration. Twitter is up in that special sauce. Some tweets could easily be the words out of my own thumbs. I’m noticing a progression spiraling upwards among us. And I think we’re getting closer to being able to chart this…

Or, Twitter = just a bunch of useless blah blah nonsense = Life.

People of Color Circle – Boston

Bringing ancient tradition into our everyday lives. Once circle at a time. Boston. Brooklyn.

This video is of my first participation in circle. In Boston. People often ask, “what is circle?” It’s one of those things that is both very easy and very difficult to explain. Simply, circle is a gathering of people who sit – in a circle – and discuss. Traditionally, three questions/topics are posed to the group, and one by one, every person in the circle speaks. We pass around a talking piece. Whomever holds the talking piece can hold it for as long or as short as they’d like. And while they hold the talking piece, everyone else listens actively. It’s that simple.

To go a little further, imagine a clock. From 12 to 3 o’clock is the first quarter of circle, during which time the focus is on introductions. From 3 to 6 o’clock, trust is built. From 6 to 9 o’clock we share issues of interest. From 9 to 12 o’clock is time for action. The key here is that each quarter is equally timed. A quarter can be 3 months, or it can be 3 years. The key is not to rush and to fully flesh out each stage honestly, openly and with love and hope for an ideal continuous present.
In “western” culture, when it comes to work and the workplace, we spend 12 to 1 o’clock introducing ourselves then immediately get to work from 1 all the way to 12 o’clock again. But we haven’t built any trust. We don’t even know what issues are of importance to our co-workers. We’ve barely even introduced ourselves properly.
The method of circle can be found among indigenous cultures throughout the Americas and in Africa and parts of Asia. It has maintained its place among people of color throughout the world – and is a way of life from which we all can benefit.
I’ve been part of the Brooklyn People of Color Circle since we started in October of ’07. Circle has a way of reminding me of my connectedness to the goodness of our collective spirit. It brings me closer to the flow. Sacred space. I look forward every month.

Kids, sing along!

It’s a beautiful day to be Allison!
It’s a wonderful day to be Allison!
I just LOVE being Allison!
And I hope you love being YOU!

Dreams

One of my new favorite films, the communally directed “I’ve Been Twelve Forever” is all about the work, life and philosophy of Michel Gondry (one of my heroes of video). He refers very often to his dreams. He remembers them vividly and draws upon them candidly in many of his works. It seems he never gave up trying to dismantle them. The feelings he recalls from dreams he had as a child haunt follow him still today. In this excerpt from the film, he has this to say (clip does not feature his actual voice, but these are his words verbatim, I’m assuming its a legal youtube-y kind of detail):

I have been thinking a lot about this theory these past couple of nights as I wade in the shallow end of the dreamspace. You see, I’m a dreamer. My dreams are vivid and real. I can feel, hear, taste, and maybe even smell in my dreams. And the things I see… My dreams are so adventurous. Sometimes they’re really scary. Other times, they are such amazing but small exchanges I long for in my waking life. A few years ago, I discovered in my memory all these wild excursions that I had no recollection of ever having happened – but emotionally they seemed so real, these memories. They had to have happened. I thought…were these movies I saw? No, they were dreams. I felt a longing for the type of travel and adventure that I’ve come to know in my dreams that I was not finding in my waking life.

In dreamspace I have so many magical moments. My brother and I have often met in dreams. We’ve shared the same dream on the same night on several occasions. Or, one of us will dream something that is physically happening to the other at that same moment. My dear friend and former boyfriend told me once that his mother told him that she had spoken with me recently. She wanted to know some information about her son, so she contacted me and we had a discussion. Now, I knew in my awake life I hadn’t seen or spoken to or even e-mailed this woman in many years. But that night as I lay my head to the pillow…it all came back to me. I had had a conversation with her, about her son – in dreamspace. All the memories came rushing back in. (She’s very skilled and experienced in this type of travel and communication).

I remember as a child, always waking up in the middle of the night to sleep inbetween my parents in their bed. I did this until I was quite a big child. I did the same with my grandparents when I’d spend summers at their house in North Carolina. Eventually I grew out of it and slept in my own bed…although my sister was never very far, in her own bed a few feet away in the same room.

I remember going away to college.. Grown. It was all so new and exciting. I made friends and slowly adjusted to my new surroundings. I hadn’t really realized the significance of what I’m about to say until very recently: it was then, as a freshman in college that I realized I didn’t like to sleep alone. I found a buddy, a guy. He lived in my dorm. And almost every night I would tip-toe from my room down to his, to sleep next to him. We were best friends. And he was such a gentleman – though he later told me that he once stole a kiss from me as I slept!
As the years went on, I moved out of the dorms and into the neighborhood as a housemate to friends of mine. One semester I lived by myself in a studio apartment – I’ve never been so miserable. Even now, I have roommates. At age 29.

It seems quite simple: I don’t care to live alone. Moreover, I really prefer not to have to sleep alone and wake up alone. Sharing a bed may have helped “keep the structure of the family across the millennia” according to Monsieur Gondry.

Bon nuit.

I’m Going.

I’ve been sick lately. Bed-ridden. Today I began peeling away the crust that formed over me. I emerged by creating an afternoon from-the-bed video diary complete with lighting and well composed shots [a tricky tilt, a wide shot and a medium close up...can't get too close on sick-face].

And I just got a call from my good friend Nsenga inviting me to accompany her to an adventurous 24 hour exhibition at the Guggenheim.

theanyspacewhatever is what its called. artists, philosophers, filmmakers, etc all musing on the concept of time. [sigh] an installation near and dear to my heart, and like most of my favorite art, right on time. (really, no pun intended)

i’ll take BB pics and let you know how it is…